The Order of Chaos
by Nate Grey
Summary: Charlie Merriweather, Agent of Order, runs into Delirium and Shivering Jemmy on his way to a mental institute. He doesn't really want to know what they're up to, but sadly, he'll find out. may change rating/genre later, open to suggestions!


**Disclaimer**: I don't own Delirium and Shivering Jemmy. I'm just borrowing them, and I wouldn't dare try to keep them, for fear of a great many things, few of which I feel comfortable describing here.

**Notes**: I'm doing this largely because I've never read a fanfic with Shivering Jemmy in it. I thought, "Hey, she seems a bit like Delirium." As you might guess, it all kinda went downhill from there.

**Warning**: I've watched the movie "Con Air" a lot in the past. And the character that stuck out the most for me was Garland Greene, the serial killer so dangerous that virtually every part of his body had to be restrained in some way. One day, I asked myself, "Why is it that people like that exist?" And after reading about the serial convention in the pages of The Sandman, the question became, "Who gives people like that their marching orders?" And this story is the result.

Summary: On his way to a mental hospital, Charlie Merriweather, a newfound Agent of Order, meets two strange girls. But will he be able to handle a Princess of Chaos and Delirium of the Endless?

Summary 2: What are Delirium and Shivering Jemmy doing on a bus to a mental hospital, dressed as Girl Scouts? Charlie Merriweather doesn't really want to know, but unfortunately, he'll find out.

**The Order of Chaos**

**A Disturbing, Delirious Little Tale by**

**Nate Grey (XMAN0123-at-aol-dot-com)**

* * *

No one ever wanted to visit Cousin Bill. I think maybe that's why I did.

But let me start this off right. My name's Charlie. Charlie Merriweather. Yeah, I know. Don't say it.

Anyway, I had this cousin. Bill. He went a little nuts.

Well, that's wrong. He went a LOT nuts. If what I've heard is true, he liked girls a little too much. I don't mean in the way he might take one home, and she'd be traumatized for life. I mean in the way that he'd take one home and show up a week later wearing her fingers as a necklace. Thankfully, they caught him after the very first time.

But I didn't hold that against him. To look at him around the time of my last visit, you wouldn't think it was something he was ever capable of. Bill just looked like a bald, five-foot beanpole. He showed real remorse for what he'd done, and between the drugs they pumped into him every night and me being his sole contact to the outside world, I didn't think he'd ever be a totally sane man again, much less a dangerous one.

At least, that's what I thought. My last visit to him, however, changed both our lives. And maybe not for the better, either.

* * *

It all started with Girl Scouts. At least, I thought they were Girl Scouts at the time.

If you saw two cute little girls wearing matching green outfits and matching berets, wouldn't you assume they were Girl Scouts? They even had boxes of cookies with them. The mistake was inevitable on my part.

But even from the beginning, there was something odd about them. For one thing, they were on a shuttle headed to a mental hospital, and by themselves, as far as I could see. Then there was the way the blond one kept glaring at me over her seat. There was also the way the redhead kept flashing me bright smiles that made my stomach do flip-flops, as if I'd eaten some only slightly bad cheese for lunch.

Now, maybe that was a clue to stay away from them, and I certainly had every intention of doing so. The last thing Bill needed was for me to bring two cute little Girl Scouts in to see him. It could very well undo all the therapy he'd suffered through over the years.

Still, you have to understand that they just LOOKED like Girl Scouts. And if they were anything like Boy Scouts, they were supposed to always be prepared. But with people like Bill out there (well, like the old Bill), you can't help but worry about little girls, especially ones you may never see again, for whatever reason. Eventually, I got it into my head that I should at least say hello, maybe find out their names and what they were doing on this shuttle in the first place. Not one of my brighter ideas, but at the time, I swear it seemed like a stroke of pure genius.

Almost right on cue, something rolled under my foot, and I looked down to see an oversized baseball with multicolored stitches. Stamped on it in bold, black letters were the words, "Property of the Shallow Brigade." A pretty odd name for a Girl Scout troop, but maybe it had some special meaning to them.

I decided that returning the ball would require some of the ol' Merriweather charm. So I casually slipped into the seat behind them and used my best line.

"Pardon me, but did one of you lovely ladies happen to lose this?" I asked, holding up the ball.

The redhead immediately blushed and burst into a fit of giggles, but the blonde merely looked at me as if I were a squashed bug come back to life to…well, bug her.

"It's mine, Mister," the redhead said after she caught her breath. She plucked the baseball from my hand and gave me a sunny smile. "Well, not really. Jemmy gave it to me, so really it's hers, and I guess I'm kinda looking after it forever now." With that, she raised the baseball to her lips and, to my complete shock, took a hearty bite out of it. "Mmm! Tastes like peanut brisket! Try some, Jemmy!" She pushed the baseball into the blonde's lap eagerly.

Jemmy shot me another glare before taking a small bite (more or less to be polite, I assumed) and passing the ball back to the redhead. I got the impression she didn't like me too much.

"Won't the Shallow Brigade want their ball back?" I asked weakly.

"You is knowing NOTHING about the Shallow Brigade," Jemmy snapped at once. "You is a big stupid-head Orderly Person!"

"Jemmy! That's not nice at all to say!" the redhead cried. Then her eyes widened with worry, and she leaned closer to the blond to whisper, "Will they want it back?"

Jemmy made a big show of turning her back on me. "You no worry, Liri. Ball is my gift to you. Stupid-head don't know nothing."

"Oh. But then how did he know about your Shadow Brigand?"

"Shallow Brigade, Liri," Jemmy corrected patiently. "All Orderly Persons is spies," she added, shooting me an untrusting glare.

"Now, wait just a minute!" I protested. "I'm not an orderly or a spy! And you don't even know me!"

The redhead gasped. "Then you'd better tell us your name, quick! We're not allowed to talk to strangers!"

I couldn't really fight her logic on that one. "I'm Charlie Merriweather."

This, apparently, was the funniest thing the redhead had ever heard. "Oh!" she squealed between wild laughs. "You have a very happy name, Mr. Merry!"

I thought about correcting her, but something told me it would do no good. "I guess your name is Liri?"

She stopped laughing at once. "What? Oh, no. I think I'd know if it was that."

"But… she just called you that," I pointed out, nodding at Jemmy's back.

"That's just cuz she doesn't like saying my whole name. So she made me another one. Jemmy's neat that way." She favored her friend with a look of pure adoration.

I waited for her to tell me what her true name was, but she never did.

Jemmy finally got tired of me. "We has our ball back. So go away, stupid-head!"

I tried not to let her get to me. "You two do know where this shuttle is going, don't you?"

Jemmy and Liri traded surprisingly concerned looks.

"None of your beeswax!" Jemmy shouted.

"We can't tell you," Liri replied quietly. "It's a secretive top secret."

I decided to try some of my logic on them now. "Girls. This shuttle only has one stop. I think it's safe to assume we're all going to the same place."

This had obviously never occurred to them.

"Well… don't you be following us!" Jemmy ordered, pointing a rather cute finger at me. "We is here on important business!"

"But we're going to the same place," I pointed out again, and not without some weariness.

"I know!" Liri said suddenly. "Mr. Merry can walk BESIDE us!"

Jemmy frowned. "That's even WORSE than following!" she complained unhappily.

"But this way we can watch him! To make sure he stays out of our important business!"

I had to remind myself that I was trying to find out what they were up to, so pointing out the flaws in Liri's logic wasn't a good idea. "I have a suggestion. We all go our separate ways at the hospital. When we're done visiting, we all meet up in the lobby and go out to lunch. My treat, of course."

Liri frowned. "Why do you get the treat?!" she demanded.

I blinked. "I mean I'll pay for it. You get to choose what we eat."

Her eyes lit up. "Ice cream?!"

"Sure. Ice cream for everyone."

Liri leaped to her feet and climbed onto the top of her seat. "Everyone!" she shouted. "Mr. Merry is taking us all out for ice cream later!!!"

Thankfully, no one took her seriously. Maybe because she was a cute little kid. But probably because we were on our way to a mental hospital. Or more specifically, that SHE was on her way to one.

* * *

It soon became clear to me that Liri was the boss. Jemmy was the muscle, but Liri was the boss. It didn't seem that way at first, but Jemmy's toughness always caved in after a few pouts from Liri. That was how I was allowed to walk beside them (never in front, and certainly not behind). Jemmy clearly didn't like that, but she kept her arguments to herself when she realized that Liri was serious about keeping me around.

I wish I could say that was because Liri was fond of me. I'm sorry to say I suspect it had more to do with the promise of ice cream later on. At any rate, my hand had become her property, and anyone we passed probably just assumed I was a father with two darling little girls.

By the time we reached the front desk at the Garrison Mental Institute, I found myself growing concerned, and even protective of the girls. Jemmy could certainly give anyone that bothered them a thorough tongue-lashing, but beyond that I doubted she could defend herself very well, much less Liri. I didn't want to leave them alone, but I could hardly take them with me to see Bill.

Jemmy solved this problem with her usual subtlety: she grabbed the edge of the desk and pulled herself up, so that she was nearly face-to-face with the receptionist. "We is here to see William Odan."

I don't suppose I have to tell you that's Bill's birth name. Or that I'd never told it to Jemmy or Liri. But the realization that we were all here to see him both amazed and disturbed me.

The receptionist, a pale, thin lady with heavily lipsticked lips, gave us a cool stare. "You are, of course, aware of Mr. Odan's special restrictions regarding visitation?" she asked. Her icy gaze lingered predictably on Jemmy and Liri.

"Yes," I said hesitantly, knowing I was a terrible liar, but still feeling the need to try. "But, you see, they're… we're family, and-"

"There are," the receptionist interrupted calmly, "no exceptions. I am sorry, but I must ask you to-"

"You is not going to stop us," Jemmy interrupted. "We is going to see William Odan."

The receptionist frowned in a way that was painful just to look at. "Little girl, I cannot allow-"

Jemmy hauled herself onto the desk, kicking anything that got in her way out of her way. She walked over to the receptionist and looked her straight in the eye. "I is not asking. I is telling. And you is not stopping. You is allowing us to see William Odan. Because if you is not, then you is going to be very sorry very soon."

I was amazed to see the receptionist swallow somewhat nervously before answering. "And just who do you think you are?"

Jemmy lowered her voice a bit, but I could hear her all too clearly just the same. "I is Shivering Jemmy of the Shallow Brigade, a Princess of Chaos, and a Very Important Person. And you," and here she poked the lady's thin nose with her cute finger, "is getting on my nerves."

The receptionist peered over Jemmy's head at me. "Are you sure you're only here to visit, sir? We happen to have excellent treatment for… younger patients, as well."

Something in Jemmy's face… twitched. Not as if itchy, but as if something was inside fighting to get out.

"Liri. Take stupid-head to see William Odan. I is being done here very soon."

Liri tugged on my hand to get me moving. "Come on, Mr. Merry. We have to go now. Jemmy needs to show the nice lady something special…"

I didn't like what her tone implied. I didn't like what Jemmy's expression implied. And I certainly didn't like the hopeless look on the receptionist's face as Liri dragged me away.

I don't know what Jemmy did to that poor woman, and I'm not sure I want to. All I know is that on our way out, she was not at her desk.

* * *

Bill was having one of his foggy days, which is another way of saying he was so full of drugs that he barely knew his own name. I hated to see him like that, since he really was a nice guy. At least, he had turned into one at some point during the treatment. And it's always hard to see a nice guy strung out on drugs.

As soon as I walked in, Bill gave me a weary smile.

As soon as he spotted Liri, he fell out of his chair and scooted back along the floor, his eyes wide and fearful.

"Charlie, what the hell?!" Bill cried. "You know I can't be near them!"

I tried to explain things to him, but Bill wasn't hearing me. The very sight of Liri was freaking him out something fierce, and nothing I could say was changing that.

Liri knew what to do, although it was nothing I ever would've done around Bill. She climbed onto the table, spread her arms wide, and began to whistle what I eventually recognized as "My Girl."

It was like someone had pumped Bill full of some new drugs. His eyes bugged out, he peeled himself off of the floor, and he started whistling along with her.

Liri started waving her hands to the music, and Bill did the same.

Pretty soon I noticed the whole room was full of nothing but patients, visitors, and guards, all waving their hands and whistling "My Girl," so I shrugged and did the same.

It was about this time that Jemmy caught up with us. She looked strangely satisfied, as if she'd just eaten a big meal. She walked over to us, stared up at Bill, and said, "You is William Odan, Agent of Chaos."

Bill stopped whistling and waving his hands. Everyone did, except for Liri. "You… you're the one," he whispered, the fun slipping out of him in an instant. "The one who… who…" He broke down right there, curling himself into a ball and sobbing miserably.

Liri looked heartbroken, but she made no move to help him.

Jemmy frowned and walked over to Bill, staring down at him. "Stop that. You is an Agent of Chaos."

"Please," Bill whimpered. "No more. Please don't make it do it anymore…"

"It is your job!" Jemmy shouted. "You do it! No one else!"

"No! NO! I won't! I CAN'T! LEAVE ME ALONE!"

"NEVER!" Jemmy screamed at the top of her lungs. "YOUR JOB THAT! MY JOB THIS! EVERY PEOPLE DO THEIR OWN JOB! EVEN STUPID-HEAD ORDERLIES!"

Liri could see I was confused, so she tugged on my arm, and I bent down to listen to her.

"Willie-Billy is sad," she whispered. "He doesn't want to work for Jemmy anymore. That's why he's here; it's punishment for quitting. But Jemmy needs him to go back to work. There's regamalations and stuff to follow, yup."

"What… was his job before?" I asked, already dreading the answer.

"Finger painting," Liri said with a serious face.

The blood drained out of my face, because somehow, I knew exactly what she meant. "No…"

"Yup," Liri responded in the same tone. "Somebody has to. Somebody was him. And he can't quit. It's his job, like Jemmy says. Even if it makes him sad inside."

"You're saying… he was supposed to do… what he did?" I asked, my voice trembling with outrage.

"You is never understanding," Jemmy snapped, glaring at me. "We is of Chaos. You is of Order. But everyone do their job. No exceptions." She was about to say more, but suddenly became aware of Bill's badly shaking hand around her ankle.

"Please," he whispered, his voice thick with tears. "I don't want to hurt anyone… please…"

Jemmy sighed and looked away in disgust. "Liri. You fix him so he can work again."

Liri, thankfully, looked just as unhappy as Bill did. "Do I have to, Jemmy?"

"Everyone has job," Jemmy said pointedly. "Even you. You promised to help. You did, I heard you."

"But… okay," Liri sighed sadly. She walked over to Bill and gently laid her hands on his head. "Don't cry, Willie-Silly. You have a job to do. Your job makes you happy. Remember?"

Bill slowly raised his head, looking terribly confused. "It… does?"

"Yeah," Liri said softly. "You teach little girls to finger paint. You make them happy, and that makes you happy, and that makes Bossy Jemmy happy. Everybody's happy."

"Are… you sure?" Bill asked. He seemed to know, instinctively, that she was lying, but just as I couldn't earlier, there was no beating Liri's logic.

"Trust me, Billy-Nilly," Liri murmured, leaning down to kiss him tenderly on the forehead. "It's better for everyone this way."

* * *

It was all over the morning paper the next day. Bill escaped from the mental hospital less than ten minutes after we left.

Well, that's wrong. He walked out. Nobody stopped him, or even tried.

On the shuttle home, I tried asking Liri why she'd done it. Jemmy wasn't talking, of course.

I did finally get an answer, and it in no way satisfied me.

"Everyone has a job, Mr. Merry. Jemmy's job is to make sure all her people are working. All I did was make sure that one of them could keep doing his job. You saw how sad he was. Now, he'll never be sad about his job again. It's bad enough his mind is broken. I couldn't let his heart break, too. It's better if he doesn't realize how much pain he causes."

"But it's wrong," I told her, with as much feeling as I could manage. "It's all so wrong…"

"Then try your best to make it right," she told me with a sad little smile.

It didn't make sense then, and it doesn't now. Because I know the old Bill is out there, and I feel like I'm the only one that knows it, or can do anything about it. I probably can't stop him, but I feel like I have to try. Ironically, for little girls just like Liri and Jemmy, who really don't know what they're doing in this big, bad world.

At least, I tell myself they don't know. But deep down, I'm more afraid that they actually do.

**The End.**

* * *

Endnotes:

This story had been sitting in my Incomplete Works folder for a LONG time. Since December of 2004, according to the file. I guess you can see why. And without warning, I suddenly slapped an ending on it and tossed it out there for you to rip apart. Why? I dunno. I guess I wanted to do something, since I haven't updated or put out a new story in a couple of days.

I don't feel good about this story, exactly. But sometimes, there are some big "Why?" questions out there that nobody can answer. It's scary, really. But you know what? There's something that always makes me feel good. Ice cream. That, and picking up a book with Neil Gaiman's name anywhere on it. He doesn't always answer the question to your liking, but he makes the trip to even the somewhat vague answer fun. And that's all I can really ask for.

To my knowledge, Shivering Jemmy only makes two appearances anywhere. The first was as a representative of Chaos, attempting to lay claim to Hell, which was in Dream's possession at the time. Weirdly enough, while everyone else tried to bargain with him, Jemmy just threatened him. Somehow, I liked that about her. She was sweet enough to leave him a balloon, though. The last time was at Dream's wake.

And now, some not-so-random quotes that probably helped me write this, on some level.

**Shivering Jemmy**:

_"Hmmph. We is always more fun than the Order people. Cardboard boxes! Nobody clever be's cardboard boxes."_

-- The Sandman, Vol. 4: Seasons of Mists

**Death**:

_"Nobody's creepy from the inside, Hazel. Some of them are sad, and some of them are hurt, and some of them think they're the only real thing in the whole world. But they're not creepy."_

-- Death: The Time of Your Life

**Death and Delirium**:

_"Hi, sis. How are you doing?"_

_"Um. Yesterday I did some really bad stuff. I mean real bad. You know. But today I did some good things. I don't know. You know."_

-- The Sandman, Vol. 4: Seasons of Mists

_"Delirium, I've got to go take care of something. Can you handle things here?"_

_"I can put handles on lots of things."_

_"…good enough."_

-- Death # 1: At Death's Door


End file.
